


Taming the White Wolf

by Nore_D_Nad



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nore_D_Nad/pseuds/Nore_D_Nad
Summary: Geralt of Rivia is low on coin, but you, a local tavern keeper offer to help him out of his jam. Unfortunately for him, that may have gotten him into an entirely new one.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Kudos: 33





	Taming the White Wolf

You weren't really the type of person to call upon a witcher, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The town hadn't gone more than a week without someone being terrified by a beast in the woods. Some said it was just an abnormally large bear, others said it was something mystic, otherworldly. Either way, it needed to be taken care of. 

Your town wasn't massive, maybe one or two hundred people total, but the beast, whatever it was, had already killed six people, injuring at least a dozen more on its rampages. Not much was known about the beast, other than the obvious massive gashes in the chests of those it had killed, but you knew for certain it lived atop the hill just outside of town. Villagers had almost exclusively been attack when walking out of town that way. A few people even swore that they saw the creature's family, although you doubted something so horrific could have a family in the first place.

Being a simple tavern owner from a small town, most people wouldn't really look to you as the defender of a village, but you knew otherwise. It was the tavern owners who met adventurers, bonded with them, listened to their tales, made contacts. And that was exactly what you were doing on that fateful day, when the White Wolf walked in.

You'd heard the songs, everyone had, even this far out in the middle of nowhere. Geralt of Rivia was known for slaying beasts of any size, so when he came in the tavern that day, you had no reservations with asking him for help.

Geralt sat down on one of the stools, resting his hands atop the counter and giving you a wave, calling you over to serve him. You set down the cups you'd been cleaning, heading over as quickly as possible. As you sped over to him, you looked at his face, recognizing every detail from the legends. 

His hair was snow white and long, settling gently around his neck, just barely breaching his shoulders. His face looked like it had been chiseled out of stone, staring at you with an uncanny, unfeeling stare. Although you felt you should be terrified by that gaze, it somehow just reassured you of how brave he must be. Sometimes it takes a human that might be considered a monster to defeat a true monster. Looking further down his face, you noticed his eyes. The tales and songs were a bit sketchy on this detail, some describing his eyes as a cold black or a steely blue. You saw now that they were a strange yellow, not in a sickly way, but more like a cat's, taking in every detail of his surroundings even when he seemed relaxed in his seat. Again, this should've been unnerving, but you just felt the excitement rising even more in your chest, finally feeling as though your troubles were over.

As you reached the other side of the bar, the witcher spoke one word, not even meeting your eyeline.

"Ale."

You nodded, not speaking back to him but instead dutifully getting him his ale. It was unwise to get on a witcher's bad side, but it was a death sentence to piss of Geralt of Rivia. You filled up a cup with ale, handing it to the witcher and trading it off for a coin out of his palm. Geralt instantly rose the ale to his mouth, taking a couple mouthfuls in without so much as a breath in between. You decided now was a good time to break the silence.

"So, you must be the famous witcher everyone's singing about lately." You said, looking at his face for some sort of recognition."

"Hm." Was all the response you got out of him. You had to give it to him, he had a colder exterior than you'd thought.

"Well," You continued, resting up against the counter. "You may have seen some of the homes boarded up outside. We have a bit of a problem that only a witcher is fit to fix." With that sentence, Geralt set down his ale, tightening his eyes slightly and finally looking into yours.

"What kind of problem?" He asked, his voice deep and gruff. His interest made you smirk with satisfaction.

"We're not entirely sure, but a monster has been killing some of our villagers lately, and I want it to come to an end. Bad for business, you know?" I gestured around to my mostly empty tavern. It was closing in on the sunset, and no one wanted to be out and about after dark. "I can offer you all the coin in my possession to bring it's body back here, if that piques your interest." Indeed it seemed to. Geralt stood up and picked up his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.

"Where does this beast reside?" He asked, downing the last of his ale and slamming his empty cup down onto the table.

"Atop the mountain, just outside the town's boundaries. Head south, you can't miss it! And by the time you finish that, I'll be upstairs, so come and check my room for your payment when you finish. although I don't imagine the White Wolf needs any invitation to come into my room." You teased him, looking for any reaction. Geralt just looked back at you for a moment, stone faced, before turning around and walking out the door. You picked up his cup, cleaning it out with a sigh of relief. The town would be safe once more.

You retreated to your room for an hour or so, expecting the witcher to take quite a while. Firstly, it was a damned trek up the mountain, impossible by horseback. You'd have to claim, and the average man would probably spend an hour just finding the optimal path. Combine that with actually slaying the foul beast, whatever it was, and you'd have yourself a four hour journey, at the very least. Having some time to yourself, you decided to relax in your bath.

Your quarters weren't the most elegant in the lands, but they were certainly more impressive than most. The bar used to do quite well, before the monster arrived, and the coin had flowed like a river after a heavy storm. You sat down in your bath, surrounded by candles half burnt, letting the warm water rush over you. Laughing to yourself, you thought about all the poor souls out there that had to bathe in cool water, once a month at best. It stunk up the tavern on those busy nights, but you couldn't argue with men who were more focused on putting their coin towards ale than towards plumbing. As rudimentary as your heating was, it got the job done, transporting the warm water well enough to keep things steamy.

Leaning back in the tub, you thought back on the witcher. He was a lot of man to tame, seemingly impossible, but that just seemed to drive your urges more. You wanted to take him and ruin him, turn him from that beast of man into a quivering mess. It was impossible to shake the feeling of attraction you'd felt for him back there, although you'd hid it well. Your pass at him hadn't exactly gone well, but it hadn't gone unnoticed. The witcher was cold, yes, but you could tell he was intrigued. It probably wasn't every day that an ordinary human joked with a witcher, much less making a joke of a sexual nature, so perhaps that was it. Perhaps the witcher was just mildly surprised, and nothing else. There was still a glimmer of hope in your mind, hope that he'd walk through that door and subm-

As you were in the middle of thinking about the ways a witcher might handle himself if 'attacked' whilst on his knees, the door to your bathroom swung open, revealing the witcher standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and his sword sheathed on his back.

"Witcher! You're here early!" You exclaimed, flustered at being caught unawares. Geralt walked into the room, looming over your tub and staring down silently for a moment, as if he was staring directly through your forehead and into your mind, seeing what you'd just been fantasizing about.

"My coin." He said, looking around the room slowly for it. You stood up, revealing your naked body from the water. Geralt took one look down, then back up into your face, seemingly unfazed by this as well.

"You can't possibly expect me to believe that you killed the beast already. Where's the body? Why is there no blood on you? And how did you do it so fast?" You asked angrily, actually starting to get pissed off with this guy. It was one thing to act so cold to your advances and not even care about your naked body, but it was another to blatantly lie for some quick payment.

"There was no beast, the thing terrorizing your village was a cursed human. He should return here in the morning, free of his curse. That means there is no body, there is no blood, and it took me just minutes to cure him. Now hand over the coin." The White Wolf got closer to you, clearly sensing the angry tone in your voice and not liking it. He was admittedly intimidating, but you weren't going to back down, especially not now that you'd concocted a new plan.

"Well witcher, I'm afraid there shall be no coin..." You started off. Geralt tilted his head, looking angrier by the second. "The deal was that you had to bring that beast's body back. I don't consider a living human coming back to our town to be a creature's body on my doorstep, and I don't think any reasonable man would argue that." You smirked at him as he backed off in slight surprise.

"A reasonable man might not, but a witcher being relieved of due payment doesn't exactly make for a reasonable man." The white wolf took another step back towards you, threatening to butt heads with you within another few inches. 

"I didn't say there would be no payment. I merely told you you wouldn't be paid for a service that you didn't provide. You witchers are jacks of all trades, are you not? I'm sure we could find another way for you to earn your coin and be off by dawn." You reached up gently, touching Geralt on the shoulder. "Tell me, have you met many whores on your journeys in taverns like these?"

Geralt pulled back slightly, not enough to free himself of your touch but enough so that his face was in full view. He looked off into the distance, clearly pondering on whether he wanted to respond or not.

"I'll take that as a yes then. Had it ever occurred to you that the most popular among them make more coin in a night than you in a week?" You reached down, grabbing at his shirt firmly. "And yet their task seems so simple, doesn't it? Just sit there and let the man do what he wants to you, right?"

Geralt yanked himself back, pulling away from you and growling out, "Yes, it seems a simple task but it's no life for a witcher." You laughed to yourself, stepping out of the tub and dripping water on the floor once more. Geralt looked down, avoiding your gaze and finally taking in your body in it's complete form.

"I didn't say it was, I just ask of you to take part in it this one night. And besides, you said yourself, it's a simple task, yes? Then prove it. Prove that this body, this body which has fended off beasts of terrifying proportions, can take on one man, with no boundaries, for one night." You grabbed at his shirt once more, your fingers dancing around the buttons. "Witchers don't feel fear, do they? Because you seem to be trembling at my mere touch."

Although you'd just been teasing before, this part was true. Geralt was trembling, but it was more likely because he was at odds with himself. More than likely, he needed the coin desperately, but didn't want to sacrifice his dignity in order to get it. After all, witchers were meant to hunt monsters, not to have men hunt them.

"Fine." Geralt finally said beneath his breath. You smiled, that being the only word you needed out of him. You began unbuttoning his shirt, taking time to admire his chest as you did so. He was indeed pure muscle, not a pound of fat to be found across his stomach. The voice inside of you just grew louder at seeing this, wanting to break him even more than before. Taming the local bard was one thing, but taking on a beast of this caliber? It was impossible to resist.

Once you finished stripping off his shirt, you began to play the game. Geralt still had his eyes to the ground, so you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up to you. He reflexively pulled his hand up to block you, but stopped halfway, remembering what he had agreed to. You looked into his yellow eyes, not sensing any fear yet, but definitely looking different than they had before.

"Get on your knees." You ordered. Surprisingly enough, Geralt indeed dropped to his knees before you, still looking up at you as he did so. If there was one thing this man was going to do, it would be listen. This was going to be even easier than you thought. Geralt's face was now just mere inches away from your cock, and the new look in his eyes implied that he knew exactly where this was going. "Open your mouth." Again, the White Wolf did so dutifully, letting his mouth hang open in front of you.

It would be so easy just to tell him to suck you off, yet it felt wrong to break him in this way. Of course, yes, it would technically be submission, but it would be submission in the form of duty. The witcher was clearly only listening because it was what he was tasked to do, not because he had truly submitted. He was working, he was on the job, he wasn't a submissive whore, he was just another prostitute. You had to change that.

Instead of giving him the order to service you, you thrust yourself forward suddenly, your cock going straight into Geralt's mouth. His eyes widened for a moment in surprise, then darted down to look at the inflated member invading his mouth. He clearly had never sucked a cock before, perhaps never even been intimate with a man, but he was a damn natural at it. Damn witchers, they truly are jacks of all trades.

You thrust deeper into his mouth as the sensations gained momentum. One of your hands found it's way down to his head, making a fist to grab onto his hair. The other hand stroked Geralt's face, almost lovingly, as your dick ran along his tongue and jabbed at his throat. Although the outside of his body was rough and scarred, his mouth felt as soft as any lass, his tongue as experienced as the average whore, and his hair as silky as the mystical creatures' in your dreams. Geralt had resigned himself to focusing on your cock, refusing to look you in the eyes as he did so.

"Look at me." You demanded. Again, Geralt acted upon the order immediately, his eyes glaring into yours once more. You couldn't quite tell if it was just his usual stern demeanor or if he was truly angry at having to perform this task, but it didn't matter. He was already in the palm of your hand, about to be broken.

After a few minutes of cock sucking humiliation for the White Wolf, you finally pulled out of his mouth. "Move to the bed. Pull down your pants and lay down on it, face down with your arms and legs spread out." Geralt rose to his feet, staring into your eyes for a moment with the same look on his face, then walked over to the bed, doing as you ordered. As he stripped down completely, you noticed even more scars scattered along his back. He truly did match the legends that bards sung of him, but you had a feeling that not every scar on him had a song connected to it. You absentmindedly wondered if the scars you'd leave tonight would be sung about, then laughed to yourself. He was in for a treat.

You mounted Geralt from behind, running your hands up and down his back. This time he did react, if only slightly, shivering at your touch. He was clearly hiding his full movements, but you still felt his body shake against yours. You leaned down next to his ears, whispering lightly.

"I think you made a mistake in agreeing to this. To be honest, if you'd argued your point more fiercely, I may have just handed the coin over without any of this." And with that, you clamped the chains onto his wrists, hidden, yet attack to the iron frame of your bed. Geralt's head snapped up, looking first at the chains, then back at you. Before he had any time to speak up with protests, you chained his legs to the bottom of the bed, completely immobilizing him.

"What the fuck is this, tavern keeper?" Geralt said, baring his teeth at you.

"It's exactly what you agreed to, you just didn't realize it. Don't worry, you're still getting your coin." You walked over to your chest in the corner, dragging it towards the bed and opening it to reveal the contents. "I'm just a bit more... intense, with my whores than most people. I like to hear them scream, and who better to break than the White Wolf himself?" Geralt thrashed around wildly as you reached into the chest, pulling out a small flail.

You reeled back and whipped it against his back, hitting him quite harshly for a first blow, even by your standards. Surprisingly enough, he barely reacted to the pain, instead looking back at you with renewed anger in his eyes. You smirked, finally getting to that point. He was no longer being obedient for the sake of coin, he wasn't being obedient at all. If he were free, he'd be fighting it physically. You'd taken that away, now you just had to take his mental capacity to fight back from him, then you'd have succeeded.

You whipped him a few more times, harder than before. Geralt was wordless, turning to face away from you, no longer giving you the satisfaction of seeing his facial expressions. Although you were pleased that he wasn't trying to talk his way out of it, it was a bit disappointing that you hadn't gotten even a yelp out of him with the flail. You turned back towards the chest, seeing what else you could use to get a reaction out of him. As your eyes were travelling from the bed to the chest, you spotted a light out of the corner of your eye.

The candles were still burning.

You picked up one of the candles, bringing the entire thing back and holding it above Geralt's back. You slowly tilted it, letting a small amount of wax drip down onto the square of his back. You were immediately hit with a much more satisfactory grunt from Geralt. You looked up at him as he shoved his face down into the bed, clearly trying to hinder any more noises from escaping his mouth. Going straight to the candles may have been a fast jump, even for a witcher, but it was exactly the type of thing you needed in order to break him in.

You continued tipping more wax onto different parts of his back, now lightly rubbing Geralt's ass as you did so. The next part of this would require some preparation, so now was as good a time as any to start. You could hear Geralt grinding his teeth against your bedsheets as you poured more and more wax onto his back, his whole body squirming and twitching. Surprisingly, his hole hadn't clenched at all as your fingers rubbed against it, which implied it wasn't new to foreign objects being around it. You took this as a signal to continue, reaching down into the chest as you tipped more wax onto his back, pulling out a small, cool steel rod.

You slowly slipped the rod into his ass, using your own spit to prepare it beforehand. Geralt gasped at the sudden cold feeling invading his insides as his outsides burned, writhing around now more fluidly. His breath had become ragged from trying to resist and form of reaction, telling you that he was close to giving in and letting his sounds out. You just had to push a bit further.

You slid the steel rod in and out of his ass swiftly, giving him little time to prepare for this new addition to the sensations. Geralt gasped periodically, still trying to hide his noises with the bedsheets, not giving out any cries quite yet. He still hadn't spoken a word, but his entire demeanor had changed. His body was actively bouncing up on the bed, trying to shake the wax off but failing with every squirm. You smiled more as you watched him buck his hips in an attempt to push you away, but only managing to thrust the rod deeper inside himself.

Or perhaps that was his intention? It was hard to tell at this point. Either way, this certainly wasn't submission, and a lack of submission required punishment. You raised your free hand up into the air, slamming it down onto Geralt's ass cheek. Instantly he stopped squirming and his ass tightened it's grip on the rod, practically stopping you from moving it at all. You were pleased with the results. Clearly his body was much more sensitive than it had been at the start.

With that, you pulled the steel rod out of his ass, setting the candle onto the floor beside you. You got up onto the bed, pulling Geralt's ass as close to you as possible, and rammed your cock into him, no warning given.

Geralt moaned louder than you'd ever heard. Every tiny noise that he'd packed away and hidden from you had released itself at one moment, instead coming out as a loud, unstoppable moan. His head snapped up in surprise, not wanting to believe what had just happened, but you quickly reminded him of it. With another thrust, you made him moan once more, solidifying the fact that your cock was controlling what came out of this man's mouth. You started fucking him faster, relishing as his moans turned into whimpers, crying out words that you didn't understand, words that would make your mother cry, and words that you were fairly sure weren't even real words.

"Is that what you wanted witcher, to be fucked like a whore?" You yelled down at him, grabbing him by the hair as you did so. His whimpers bounced off the headboard and back into your ears, bringing joy to them as they did so. "Or can you really not handle this many sensations at once without turning into a whimpering little pup. Geralt, the White Wolf Pup, has a bit of a better ring to it, don't you think?" Geralt only replied with more whimpers, sounding like the pup he was as you fucked deeper into him, fucking him harder than you'd gone on any of the harlots you'd brought to this room before.

After fucking him like this for a few minutes, something surprised you. Geralt's ass had begun to back once more, causing you to stop in your tracks, pulling out until only the tip of your cock was in him. But instead of pulling away and letting the last of your dick free of his ass, he rammed himself up into you, fucking himself on your cock. 

You leaned down and unlocked the chains on his wrists, smiling as you did so. There was no need for them now, as even once Geralt was freed of his chains, he continued to fuck himself on your cock, zero movement needed out of you at all. Whereas you had thought this man would be your most challenging prize yet when he walked into your tavern, he had turned out to be one of the easiest, submitting within an hour of your session's start. You leaned back and laughed gently. Tonight was going to be a good one.

The entire night was spent fucking, humiliating, and torturing Geralt. You went through every last toy in your chest, using them all on Geralt as you called him names you wouldn't even call a man on the chopping block. The wax on his back eventually hardened and peeled away, leaving burns on his back that would surely scar by week's end. Geralt had no qualms whatsoever once he let that first moan go, submitting entirely to every touch, every toy, every word that came out of your mouth. Although no more sentences left his mouth for the rest of the night, many moans and whimpers did, speaking more for him than any amount of vocabulary could have. 

In the morning, he took his leave and his coin as expected, but he gave one last solemn look back at you as he did so. The witcher that left your tavern that morning was not the same one that had entered it the night before. He was a changed man. He would forever be left with the knowledge that he had been broken, and quickly, by a man who didn't even have half the muscle mass and zero of the magic that he did. He was a beast of the wilds no more.

He had been tamed.


End file.
